


this house is a circus

by bisexualparrish



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Dual POV, Fluff and Crack, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Roommates, chainsaw makes an appearance, just two idiots sharing an apartment, lets just ignore the reality of rent in nyc shall we, so does teenage opal, this timeline is all over the place
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26075944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualparrish/pseuds/bisexualparrish
Summary: Ronan Lynch moves from Henrietta, Virginia to New York City to be closer to his friends who go to college there. He rents an apartment out but is in need of a roommate. His friend Gansey suggests one of his classmates, Adam Parrish, who is in need of a place to stay with a shared rent price.It goes about as well as you expect it to. Chaos and childish shenanigans ensue. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of love.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically gonna be snippets of head canons I have of Ronan and Adam sharing an apartment, and the chaos that results. This first one just sets everything up. Enjoy :)

Ronan Lynch was finally moving out of the Barns.

“Tell me you’re joking,” Ronan’s brother Declan said. “No way.”

Ronan grumbled, “I’ve said it like ten times already, but yes, asshole. I’m moving out.”

“You better not be fucking messing with me,” Declan warned. “I’ll make Matthew get the truth out of you.”

Ronan huffed. Using the Matthew card was off limits. “In case you’ve forgotten, I never lie.” Well, Ronan also never used his phone, but he was clearly making an exception at the moment. Ronan figured this was what Declan was thinking when he had picked up Ronan’s surprising call. Ronan never answered the phone when his friends and family called him. It was a surprise if he ever picked up the phone. It was even more of a surprise if he actually _called_ someone else of his own accord, which was what he’d done by calling Declan.

“Whatever, I don’t care. Are you finally thinking about going to college or something?” asked Declan suspiciously.

“Fuck no,” said Ronan. “Literally who do you think you’re talking to?”

“It was worth a shot. But why else would you decide to move?”

“Gansey’s in New York. So is Noah. Everyone’s there. I might as well move there to be closer to them. What am I going to do all alone here anyway?”

Declan snorted, and it was clearly audible through the phone. “That’s literally what I have been trying to shove inside your pea brain since the beginning of time. Jesus Christ, Ronan. Who convinced you?”

“I’m going to hang up the phone,” Ronan said, “if you don’t shut up. Just get over here.”

“You sure you want to go up to New York? Matthew’s here with me in D.C.”

“I’m already packed and ready to go, Declan. Just get over here or I’ll drive by myself. Do you really trust me to get an apartment on my own?”

Declan sighed. “No. I’ll be there. I’m in town anyway.”

“ _I’m in town_ ,” Ronan echoed. “Uh-huh. We both know you’ve been lurking around here ever since I told you. I’m hanging up now, in case you have any more dumbass questions you’re dying to ask me.”

Ronan could practically hear Declan roll his eyes. “Bye, asshole,” Ronan said. He hung up.

As much as he liked to mess with his brother, and as much as he hated his brother’s condescension about Ronan actually making a decision about something that wasn’t immediately self-destructive, Ronan could hardly believe it either. He was really _moving out_. He had a suitcase and everything.

There hadn’t been much that he’d taken out of his childhood home that he’d wanted to take. Sure, he took his clothes and a few tokens that represented cherished memories of his parents, but other than that, he left the Barns largely untouched. Declan was an asshole most of the time—but he had been right about one thing: it was time for Ronan to move on.

All it had taken for a Ronan to decide to move near Gansey was this: Gansey had called Ronan (Actually, he’d left a voicemail because Ronan had predictably not picked up the phone) and told him he’d gotten a girlfriend. From what Ronan could piece from the fractured audio, she was rumored to be very, very vertically challenged and very, very opinionated. There was no way he was losing Gansey to a fucking midget who deliberately chose never to shut her mouth.

Ronan stared at the sprawling and vast property of his family home. It was beautiful in the way only the home you made the sweetest memories of your life could be. He would miss it, but he knew it was time to let it go. It was time to let go of Niall Lynch and what he had left behind of his family. Declan had moved on; Matthew had moved on. It was time for Ronan to move on too.

It used to depress him, how his friends had gone off to college in different and faraway places. Far away from Henrietta, far away from Ronan. His brothers had moved to D.C., which certainly wasn’t as far, but he’d be damned if he ever moved to a place like that. It was Declan’s scene, not his. Declan could keep it.

It wasn’t so depressing anymore now that Ronan realized he could move on too. It didn’t have to be in the same way his friends and brothers had moved on, though. He could simply move for a change of scenery, to be around the people he loved and cherished. It was that simple.

But Ronan Lynch could still be Ronan Lynch in New York, living with his closest friends. Right?

Even though Ronan had asked Declan to come and drive with him up to New York, he still dreaded the moment he heard the crunch of the gravel driveway under the wheels of Declan’s Volvo.

***

New York was so, so, so different from Henrietta and the Barns that Ronan couldn’t believe it. The air was crisp and cool, the sky a brilliant blue with fluffy white clouds dotted here and there. Henrietta had been all sun and no clouds, relentlessly sunny. This was different. As Ronan’s car was stalled in traffic upon the Brooklyn Bridge, he stared at the water below.

The city was so different from the quiet recluse that was the Barns. Instead of hearing the faint sounds of a farm at night, he would be hearing cars and people and the bustle of a city.

It didn’t sound like a place Gansey would have liked. Ronan was surprised he was going to college here. He remembered the thing Gansey liked the most about Henrietta: the quiet. New York was everything Henrietta was not.

Then again, New York City didn’t sound like a place Ronan would freely decide to move to, but here he was.

Ronan followed Declan’s Volvo with his own BMW as they crossed Brooklyn into a part of town with slightly less city bustle. It wasn’t Times Square or anything, but it was still loud, louder than Ronan was used to.

His phone buzzed. It was sitting in the passenger seat, and Ronan glanced at it for a quick second. Gansey had texted him an address. Since he was feeling decent, Ronan would have had the mind to text Declan, except he was driving, and he knew Gansey probably would have texted Declan as well.

It was an address in Brooklyn. Ronan assumed it was his girlfriend’s apartment, remembering how Gansey had told him she went to art school in Brooklyn. Gansey would have been proud of Ronan for remembering.

Another text buzzed in: _Come here after you’ve finalized apartment stuff._

Ronan had looked at apartments online for the previous two weeks. He sent a few to Declan, half as a joke, and half because he wanted Declan’s opinion on them. Of course Declan wouldn’t believe Ronan wanted to move up to New York until they actually drove for eight hours to get there.

There was one apartment he had chosen in Brooklyn, and one he had chosen back in Manhattan, near where Gansey went to school. Gansey himself didn’t have an apartment; he lived in the dorms at Columbia, which Ronan found weird because even when him, Gansey and Noah went to Aglionby, he had bought and sold their warehouse apartment, Monmouth Manufacturing. Maybe he wanted to make new friends or some weird shit like that.

The apartment in Brooklyn Declan declared was too far away from Gansey and the rest of Ronan’s friends for comfort, so they journeyed to the other apartment in Manhattan. Ronan had wanted to snap at Declan at first but realized that he was right. He came here to be closer to Gansey. He didn’t come all the way here only to have to ride five subway trains to visit him.

Declan, being finely attuned to the way Ronan’s brain worked, said, “You do know that you’re gonna have to ride the subway around here, right? And walk. That BMW of yours can’t get you everywhere.”

“There no roads here or some shit?” asked Ronan, it not sounding like a genuine question but him meaning for it to.

“It’s just harder to drive around when it’s a big city. Traffic and everything. It’ll take you ages to get around. You’ll save time by taking the subway.” Declan was right; there had been a lot of traffic even on the ride across Brooklyn to Manhattan.

Ronan shuddered at the thought of having to share a stuffy and unsanitary train car with a few dozen people for an extended period of time. “Gross. Whatever.”

“Also, rent here’s a bitch. Get a job.”

He smirked at his brother and nodded slowly. “So _that’s_ why you agreed to let me move up here. I’d finally be forced to get a job.”

“Part of the reason, I suppose,” admitted Declan. “It’s about time you get used to some real responsibility.”

“Don’t we have a shit ton of money from Dad? Why can’t I just use that?”

“Like I said before, rent here is an absolute bitch. Dad wasn’t a billionaire. That trust fund money won’t last you that long here. Besides, you need a job. It’s good for you.”

Ronan snorted. “And when have I been known to do things that are _good for me_?”

Declan ignored him. “Do you like the apartment?”

Ronan did, in fact, like the apartment. It was rather spacious, with two bedrooms (though there was a shared bathroom), and a general sitting area that opened into a kitchenette in the back. It was comfortably rustic and easy on the eyes. There were plenty of windows and even a pair of sliding doors that led to a balcony. Easy apartment access for a certain raven of Ronan’s.

“It’s kind of tiny,” he said, just to get on Declan’s nerves. Declan had been bitching nonstop about the size of apartments in New York as they were surveying the apartment in Brooklyn.

“Ronan,” warned his brother, in a way that was purely comical, “don’t even.”

He barked a laugh. “Don’t get your poor panties in a twist. It’s fine. Chainsaw can even get in here easily. I won’t have to scare the neighbors by bringing a raven through the lobby.”

“Of course the first thing you think about is that stupid bird of yours,” said Declan. “Remind me again—were you drunk when you named that bird Chainsaw or are you just normally that obnoxious?”

“My dear brother,” replied Ronan, unkindly, “I think you know the answer to that question.”

“Shut up and let’s just get this apartment. Hopefully they allow pets.” Declan didn’t appear to be too hopeful.

***

“You need a roommate,” declared Gansey, once he had seen enough of Ronan’s new home.

Ronan glared at his friend. “I most certainly do _not_. Whatever gives you that impression?”

It had been a rhetorical question, yet Gansey decided he was obligated to answer. “It’s so _large_. People never get apartments this big unless they’re living with other people. And have you seen the _rent_ for this thing? Jesus.”

“No, Gansey,” drawled Ronan sarcastically. “I don’t think I have seen the rent on the apartment that I bought and will live in.”

“Seems lonely to me to live in a place this big all by yourself,” remarked Gansey’s unbearably short companion. Seriously, how did she _find_ clothes to wear? Ronan figured she probably shopped in the fucking kids’ section.  
  


“Who even are you?” asked Ronan, glaring in Girlfriend of Gansey’s general direction.

“Blue Sargent,” Blue Sargent, apparently, answered flatly.

“Well, _midget_ ,” said Ronan, relishing in the way Sargent’s mouth turned in a scowl at the word, “I don’t remember asking for your opinion. Did you drive here, by the way? No way you don’t get pulled over all the time.” Ronan was sure there had to have been a height limit or something for drivers.

“I could say the same to you,” retorted Sargent. “Trust me, I’ve heard stories about your horrid driving. You really had speeding tickets all over your door at Monmouth?”

“Oh yes,” said Ronan, nastily. “All the stories are true.”

“As much as I do appreciate this budding friendship for you two,” Gansey interrupted, severely misinterpreting the not-so-subtly passive aggressive conversation Ronan and Girlfriend of Gansey were exchanging, “you _do_ need a roommate. And I have just the candidate!”

Ronan really did not want a roommate. He was perfectly content being lonely in a big apartment all to himself. He didn’t like to share his belongings. But Gansey looked so fucking _ecstatic_ about the prospect of suggesting a possible roommate for Ronan that he couldn’t find it in himself to truly say no to him. “Whatever.”

Sargent apparently knew who Gansey was referring to. “Oh, he’d _hate_ Ronan. I already know it.”

“Who is _he_ and why would he hate me?” Ronan asked. “I’m a perfectly fucking pleasant person to be around.”

“Oh no, Adam would definitely hate you. No doubt about it.”

Ronan scowled. “We’ll see about that, midget. Let the guy meet me first.”

“Oh!” said Gansey. “This is wonderful. He’s been looking for a different place to stay that isn’t too bad rent-wise. You know he pays through college himself, right? He’s my classmate at Columbia and he’s quite possibly the smartest person I’ve ever had the opportunity to encounter. He’s absolutely brilliant. A miracle of a man, truly.”

Ronan raised his eyebrow. “Seems this Adam fellow is giving you a run for your money, isn’t he?” he said to Blue. She flipped him off at the comment; he only laughed wickedly in response.

“He better not be some dull, stick-in-the-ass,” added Ronan.

“Adam Parrish is a lot of things,” Gansey said, “but _dull_ is not one of them.”

“He definitely is a stick-in-the-ass, though,” stated Blue resolutely. “I can’t wait to see this train wreck happen.”

“Glad to know you two have faith in me,” said Ronan, drily. “Alright. Let’s meet this Adam Parrish.”

***

Ronan wasn’t expecting much from this Adam Parrish. He was mainly expecting some stick-in-the-ass college nerd that would inevitably spend his days studying miserably in his room, leaving Ronan largely alone.

What he had received with Parrish was precisely what he had expected.

But what he hadn’t expected of Parrish, was this: He was _very_ attractive.

_Just my fucking luck_ , Ronan thought.

They were at a bar across from campus and a few blocks away from Ronan’s new apartment. Their other friend Noah had decided to join them tonight, for which he was grateful. He hadn’t seen Noah in a while, and he missed their mischief and troublemaking high school days.

Gansey had introduced them to each other with an enthusiasm neither Ronan nor Parrish felt like emulating. Parrish didn’t seem very impressed by Ronan. Ronan wasn’t impressed with Parrish either; _yes_ , he was attractive, but attractiveness was a waste on a stuck-up university asshole. The guy sure dressed like one.

They shook hands firmly. Ronan’s gaze stuck on his hands, elegant and unusual akin to his handsome face. They were basically a work of art if you asked Ronan (and if he felt like being honest). Ugh. Stuck up university assholes weren’t allowed to be hot.

Gansey helped Ronan finalize all the nitty-gritty stuff with Adam. Well, more like Gansey did all the talking and finalizing while Ronan drank shots with Noah. He didn’t trust himself not to say something stupid to his new roommate.

***

Ronan had offered to help Parrish move his things from his previous residence to their new apartment, but he had adamantly declined.

“Literally who the fuck can move into a new place all by themselves?” Ronan had asked after Parrish had told him no for the thirteenth time.

Parrish replied curtly, “I don’t have much.”

Fuck that. Ronan had decided to annoy Parrish into allowing him to help move the things. He ignored the fact that Parrish had been right; he _didn’t_ have much. But what he did have—it was heavy as _fuck._

Parrish’s desk probably weighed a thousand pounds, and once he and Ronan were done heaving it out of the truck and onto the curb, they were both breathing heavily.

“Jesus Mary _fuck_ , Parrish. Maybe I _should_ have taken you up on your offer of leaving you to take your shit up on your own.”

“You could have,” said Parrish, “since I told you ten times.”

Ronan muttered, “Actually it was thirteen time, but who’s counting?”

Thankfully that desk was the heaviest of Parrish’s belongings. He had a mattress too but it was impossibly lighter than that damned desk. Who fucking knew _how_?

“Well,” Ronan said through a clenched jaw, craning his head to stare at the apartment building. “I guess this is Home Sweet Home.”

“We should get a welcome mat that says, “Home Sweet Home” outside our door,” Adam said, presumably to himself.

“We are _not_ getting a fucking welcome mat.”

“What’s so horrible about a welcome mat?”

“I’m not a middle-aged housewife with three kids.”

“We’ll have to see about that.”

Ronan didn’t know what the fuck _that_ was supposed to mean.

“Can you cook?”

“Oh _hell_ no,” Ronan groaned. So that’s what Adam meant. There was no fucking _way_ he was going to—

Adam smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

“Fuck you.” And, just to piss Adam off, he said, "Also, there's only one bathroom."

" _What?!_ "

Well. This was certainly going to be interesting.


	2. two

When Gansey had told him one of his close friends was buying an apartment and was in need of a roommate, for the first time in his life, Adam Parrish was ready to accept the offer of assistance. His pride warred with his need for basic shelter (as it usually did), and his pride lost the fight (which was certainly unusual).

Adam wasn’t in a position to be picky. As long as his roommate wouldn’t murder him in his sleep, Adam was fine with just about anyone. He had plenty of patience and self-control But even he couldn’t ignore the fact that there were many, many annoying things about Ronan Lynch.

He wasn’t a weirdo, or a pervert, or a murderer, of course. He had boundaries.

Well. At least some of the time. Others? To put it shortly, Ronan made it his main purpose in life to irritate Adam to death. It wasn’t like he was unaware of the things he did; he was perfectly aware. That made it one hundred times worse.

Adam would get home from class and would find Ronan sprawled on the couch, drinking some unknown—probably alcoholic—concoction out of a flask, listening to shitty electronica music (could you even call it music?) out of a speaker. Adam would groan at the sounds piercing his eardrums relentlessly and yell at Ronan to “turn that shit down” and Ronan would simply smirk at him, maintaining eye contact as he turned it louder.

Adam’s patience was a rope that was worn thin to a mere thread when it came to Ronan Lynch. It certainly didn’t help that he had ice blue eyes that pierced bone-deep into your soul, cheekbones chiseled like a model, and whorls of tattooed ink that stood stark against the pale skin of his neck.

Yes, that little tidbit certainly made sharing one bathroom interesting—never mind that Ronan had conveniently forgotten to mention this fact to Adam until _after_ he’d moved everything in. Just another annoyance added to the heaping pile of things Ronan Lynch did that frayed at Adam’s self-control.

The passing of a few weeks, almost a month, had quieted things down quite a bit—though that was mostly the product of mutual separation. Adam was always at class, or locked in his room studying, or writing an essay or out in a study group; Ronan would be absent from their apartment during the day, only coming home late. Adam was faintly sure Ronan sometimes left even during the night. He supposed a guy like that—always restless and moving, raucous and almost feral—couldn’t have gotten much sleep. What Ronan did for a living, where he went to college, if he had a job, was completely lost to Adam; he hadn’t the slightest idea.

“You know,” Adam began. “I just realized something.”

“You want a medal or something?” grunted Ronan with a luxurious roll of his eyes.

Ronan was sprawled over the entire length of the couch (one day Adam had come back from class and suddenly their apartment was furnished with the most basic of furniture. Ronan claimed he’d had no knowledge of what had happened, but Adam had caught him muttering something about ‘dickbag brothers’ under his breath), leaving Adam with no room. He was forced to sit on the smooth hardwood floor of their apartment, back propped against the coffee table and arms holding bent knees close to his chest.

“Shut up. I meant I realized I know literally nothing about you.”

Adam noticed he still had his headphones in his ears. Thank God he started using headphones instead of speakers, but nonetheless Adam didn’t like being ignored. He yanked the wires of Ronan’s headphones so they fell out of his ears, which made Ronan scowl harshly.

“Isn’t that weird? We literally live with each other and I don’t know anything about you.”

Ronan shrugged. The gesture looked strange because he was lying down, and the angle at which Adam was forced to look at Ronan made it seem even stranger. “Adds to the mystery, don’t you think?”

“I don’t like mystery,” Adam said.

“See, now I know something about you,” said Ronan. “Conversation over.” He began to insert his headphones back into his ears, but Adam took them away again. “Come on, man—”

Adam gave him a flat look. He looked like he wanted to say something rude, but he sighed instead, which surprised Adam. “Do I have to play twenty questions with you or some shit?”

“No,” said Adam. He already knew Ronan wasn’t taking him seriously. There was no way he was being sincere. “Just tell me stuff about yourself. That’s it.”

Ronan scoffed. “Whatever. How old are you?”

“So we _are_ doing twenty questions,” Adam mused. Ronan glared at him. He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’m twenty-one. But I’m only in my second year of college. I had to start late.” That’s all Adam planned on revealing about that particular subject.

“What do you study?” Ronan asked.

Adam allowed himself to smirk slightly. “Engineering. What do _you_ study?” Ronan was _not_ going to be the only one asking questions. Ronan hadn’t even wanted to do this in the first place.

Ronan snorted. “Parrish. By any chance, have you noticed I don’t leave this apartment?”

“Oh please,” said Adam, raising his eyebrow disbelievingly, “you’ve left this apartment for hours at a time.”

“That’s only because I’m bored as fuck. Not because I go to college.”

Adam blinked. He shook his head, like he needed to clear something out of it. “You’re saying you don’t… go to college?”

“Nooo,” said Ronan, dragging out the word while shaking his head slowly, like he was speaking to a child. “Didn’t know if your little stuck up university brain would be able to process that.” He tapped his own temple, three purposeful, firm taps.

“What do you _do_ then?” Adam himself didn’t think he understood. Sure, he knew people chose different paths than college; he didn’t judge, of course, but that didn’t mean he understood why.

“Dunno. I just do what I feel like.”

“Um. Okay.” There wasn’t any way Ronan would understand the concept of Adam needing to have something to reach, a purpose. All his life, his goal was just to survive; to survive school, to survive the trailer, to survive his many jobs, to survive long enough to apply to college. Then it was surviving _in_ college. There was constantly something Adam was working for. He didn’t know how he’d live his life if there wasn’t something to _do_. He didn’t have time to think about anything else.

“Stop looking at me like that,” said Adam. “I’ve never had the luxury of deciding that I don’t need to go to college, or that I can just do whatever I want because I have a trust fund.”

“Whatever. Any siblings?”

Adam’s jaw clenched. “No. Only child.” Then, “You have a brother, right?”

“I have two. Declan and Matthew. I have an adopted sister too, though.”

“Oh? What’s her name?”

“Chainsaw,” Ronan said. So, so casually, that it took Adam a moment to process what he’d just said.

“ _What?!_ ”

“She’s a raven.” Not a human. As if _that_ explained anything.

“There are so many problems with what you just said,” said Adam.

“Don’t be judgy of other people and their life decisions, Parrish. I sure hope you aren’t homophobic or some shit.”

“‘Judgy’ is not an actual word, by the way.” Adam was too focused on the Chainsaw thing that it didn’t occur to him that Ronan had asked him if he was homophobic.

“Don’t be judgy of my grammar, Parrish.”

“I’m not—” Adam glared at Ronan. “Whatever. A pet bird should _not_ be named Chainsaw.”

“What are you? The bird naming police?”

Adam said, “Oh my God. Also, calling your pet your sister is very straight white woman of you. That’s weird as hell.”

Ronan cackled devilishly. His blue eyes were alit with wicked amusement at Adam’s expense. “Relax, Parrish. I’m just fucking with you.”

That seemed to sum up Ronan and Adam’s relationship: Ronan fucking with Adam and trying to get a reaction out of him. Adam subsequently losing his shit, and Ronan laughing at him. That was pretty much the way all of their interactions went.

“Her name’s Opal,” said Ronan. He pulled out his phone, scrolled for a second, and then handed the phone to Adam. It displayed a picture of a short, pale girl with long blond hair and a gray skull cap. She was scowling at the camera, her phone in hand as if she was rudely interrupted. “She’s cute, but don’t let that fool you. She’s the most annoying thirteen-year-old on the planet.”

Adam tried his best to bite back a smile at the wry but fond tone of Ronan’s voice.

“My parents adopted her out of a bad foster home. When they died, my brother adopted her instead. So I guess now she’s my… niece? I suppose,” Ronan said.

Oh. Well, that was nice of the senior Lynches to adopt a kid out of a bad home. Part of Adam wished someone had done that for him. The other part of him, however, knew that he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he had waited for someone else to save him. He saved himself, and that was enough. Nonetheless, he could appreciate the kindness done for someone else.

“I’m sorry,” said Adam. “About your parents.”

Ronan shrugged casually. His expression was irritatingly neutral. “It was a long time ago.”

Adam didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say without actually saying it. After a long moment, he said, “I haven’t spoken to mine in years.”

Ronan seemed to get the message that Adam wouldn’t elaborate further.

They had both descended into a bout of silence, awkward and heavy. Ronan shifted the other way and reinserted his headphones into his ears, and just like that, the conversation was over.

***

A few more weeks had passed, and Adam had forgotten most of their conversation that day. That turned out to be a mistake.

Adam had finished his last lecture of that week dead tired. He drove his shitty car back to the apartment, trying to focus on the road without accidentally falling asleep, which was quite the feat. He stumbled up the stairs of the apartment building and fumbled for his keys in his pocket, opening the apartment door.

He didn’t immediately hear any loud, shitty music blasting out of a speaker, so for that he was immensely grateful. He didn’t think his brain could take any more white noise. He just desperately needed some sleep before he could think about functioning even on a basic level.

He stalked past the kitchen and sitting area, over to his bedroom. Ronan’s room was closed—thank God. Adam didn’t think he’d be able to act civil around anyone right now. He rubbed his eyes as he opened the door to his room. He closed the door and collapsed on his bed without looking where he was going.

Adam ended up falling into a large black bird sitting in the middle of his bed. The bird screeched at the weight, and Adam yelped in surprise and fear. The bird’s beak was dangerously close to Adam’s hearing ear, and the screech pierced his eardrums.

He rolled off the bed and fell onto the floor. He regained his bearings and sat up, staring at the bird from the floor. “What the _hell_ —”

Adam checked his windows. They were firmly closed shut. His bedroom door had been closed as well. How the hell did a _bird_ get into his bedroom?!

“Jesus Christ,” groaned Adam. He was utterly exhausted and this was the absolute last thing he needed right now. “Fuck my life.” He hefted himself off the floor with as much strength as he could. He went over to his window and opened it, preparing to woo the bird outside of his room.

To put it shortly: it didn’t work. At all.

Adam attempted to grab at the bird first, but it simply flew out of his reach. It fluttered to his desk as he fell onto his bed. The bird stared down at him with beady black eyes.

He hoisted himself off of the bed and went for the bird again, trying to shoo it toward the window by flicking his hand. “Shoo!”

Adam immediately cringed. The bird wasn’t a goddamn _fly_ ; he couldn’t just swat it away.

“Go away, please,” he muttered, to himself and to the bird. “I just want to sleep.”

The bird refused to listen to Adam. It lifted off the desk and went immediately back to the bed. It fluffed up its feathers, leaving a black, feathery mess on Adam’s comforter.

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Adam groaned.

He tried to scare it away, toward the open window. Instead of leaving the room, the bird decided to get tangled up in the curtains. It disappeared under them, flapping around blindly. The curtains would fall down if Adam didn’t get the bird out of them.

He tried fumbling for the bird, and tried lifting the curtains, moving them around. The bird managed to escape but flew right into Adam’s face. He yelped, cursing loudly. He felt its talons scratch his face, and he clutched his cheek in pain.

He tripped over the curtains and fell to the bed for the second time. Black feathers and dirt rose up with the force, then settled slowly. The bird, blissfully unaware of Adam’s pain and the mess it was making, fluttered gracefully past Adam’s head and landed next to him. It cocked its head, black eyes piercing deep into Adam’s soul with a glare. Adam glared heatedly back.

Adam couldn’t believe he’d survived years of working several jobs to pay for college, just to lose to a fucking _bird_. A crow, or sparrow, or raven, or whatever this bird was. He wasn’t a bird expert.

Wait. _Raven_. It was a raven.

Adam remembered a conversation he had with Ronan weeks ago. He’d said he had a pet raven.

Feverish anger flowed through Adam.

“RONAN,” Adam barked shrilly, “LYNCH.” If Ronan didn’t come to Adam, Adam would go there himself to his room and strangle him. He just really wanted to strangle _somebody_. He couldn’t strangle an animal, so he supposed Ronan Lynch would have to do.

He entered Adam’s bedroom through the door of their shared bathroom. (That _had_ to be the worst thing about this entire apartment. Sure, they never used the bathroom at the same time as Ronan didn’t wake up as early as Adam for class, but still. Though maybe the stupid raven Chainsaw now took the top spot.)

“ _What_ , Parrish—” began Ronan. Then he beheld the scene in front of him. He seemed to get a look at Adam’s scratched cheek—Adam was pretty sure it was bleeding—his mussed hair, his angry glare. Then Ronan’s eyes flicked to the bird on Adam’s bed, the feathers and dust littered on the bed and around the floor.

Ronan then proceeded to cover his mouth with his hand, stifling laughs. His hand did basically nothing to repress the laughs. He had to turn away because he was laughing so hard.

God, the bastard was _laughing_. The audacity of him.

Adam took a deep, deep breath. _Count to ten, Parrish._

“Lynch,” he said, as calmly and as slowly as he could. “I will fucking strangle you if you don’t stop laughing.”

Ronan bit his lip, though the effort didn’t stop a smirk from appearing. “Riiiight,” he said. Then, he snapped, “ _Chainsaw_.”

The bird, Chainsaw, picked at some of the feathers scattered around it for a moment, ignoring Ronan’s voice. Then it lifted off the bed, flapping its wide, dark wings, finally landing on Ronan’s shoulder.

“Next time I see _that_ ,” said Adam sharply, pointing a nimble finger at the raven. It cocked its head to the side, staring at Adam as if it were judging him. “It better be locked in a cage.”

The bird, Chainsaw, truly was Ronan in raven-form. It screeched, “ _Kerah_!” and then fluffed up its wings in Ronan’s face in indignation.

“Screw you,” Adam said. To the bird. Or maybe to Ronan. At this point, he was much too exhausted to tell the difference.

“Parrish,” said Ronan, gently. “Stop talking to the bird.”

Adam knew that the gentle tone of Ronan’s voice was only disguising more amusement. “Screw you too. Get out of my room.”

Ronan rolled his eyes at Adam’s dramatics. “Look in the mirror, will you? You need a Band-Aid.”

“And _who_ ’s fault is that?” He rubbed his eyes. He needed sleep. Desperately.

Ronan ignored Adam and instead pushed him toward the bathroom. He opened the door, leaving Adam alone as he went back through his room, presumably to grab a first-aid kit.

Adam examined himself in the mirror. The bird’s talons were sharp, and a razor thin, two-inch line cut across his cheekbone. There was still a pinprick of blood, but mostly the cut was dry and angry red.

Ronan returned, Band-Aid and alcohol wipe in hand. Adam wasn’t exactly sure why Ronan was helping him. He didn’t seem the type that would be willing to patch up the face of someone he barely knew and barely tolerated. Maybe this was his way of saying, _Sorry for laughing at you. Sorry about my raven cutting your face._ Adam knew he didn’t know Ronan well enough to conclude this, but he didn’t appear to apologize often.

Adam was perfectly adept at dealing with his own injuries, but he allowed Ronan to wipe an alcohol swab across his cheekbone and put on a Band-Aid.

“Thanks,” Adam muttered. Ronan only gave him a cool look before going back to his room.

He stared at himself for a moment in the mirror, and then moved to go back to his room also. He heard a soft voice, and turned back to Ronan’s room, the door still open. He watched Ronan speak softly to his bird, stroking her feathers. There was something heartwarming and intimate about the sight. Adam quickly turned around and went back to his room then, closing the door.

As soon as his head hit his pillow, Adam was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! i'll try to update this pretty often, since it's all short chapters. in the meantime, i have a couple of other fics if you're interested in checking them out :)


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